User blog comment:Llamao/The Strangers/@comment-1298206-20130628003533/@comment-1298206-20130718200050

''Bluestripe, on his paws and knees, gazes over the edge as Number Fourteen vanishes over the side of the cliff, panting heavily as watches in shock and subdued triumphant. Slowly and painfully, Bluestripe gets to his footpaws, gritting his teeth as he tries to shrug off the pain. He turns to head back inside the mountain''

''Standing before Bluestripe is Number Eleven. Its shredded cape clings loosely to its shoulders as it flutters in the wind; numerous dents can be seen in its chestplate and helmet. Over half of its visor is covered with hardened liquified metal. Ragged breathing can be heard from within the helmet as it gazes from within its battered helmet, the iron rod protruding from its lower back''

''Bluestripe's eyes widen in horror as the Stranger lurches forward, its arms outstretched. Being in no condition to put up much resistance, Bluestripe batters weakly at Number Eleven with his fists, only resulting in causing his paws to ache''

''Number Eleven grabs the Badger Lord with his metallic paws and gives a mighty heave, lifting Bluestripe a few inches off the ground. It advances towards the edge of the cliff and prepares to hurl the badger over the side''

''Bluestripe, still bashing at the Stranger with his curled paws, realizes what it plans to do. As Number Eleven leans back to throw Bluestripe into the sea below, the badger grabs the Stranger's helmet with both paws and forces it downward''

''Being forced off-balance by the badger's sudden movement, the momentum of the throw carries Number Eleven forward, causing it to stumble over the edge with Bluestripe. The badger, who is facing the cliffside, lunges forward as he slips from the Stranger's grasp and clutches the ledge for all he's worth''

''The body of Number Eleven plummets towards the sea, its body battered by several rocks jutting out from the rock face as it falls. It breaks the water's surface with a large splash. As it sinks deeper below the waves, Number Eleven's helmet begins to fill with water. Struggling feebly, Number Eleven flails its arms in vain, suddenly experiencing some kind of obstacle it is unable to overcome. This was not possible! Nothing had ever bested Number Eleven before. It was not created for failure! Salt water fills Number Eleven's lungs, causing it to stop resisting what was inevitable. A strange new sensation passes over Number Eleven and it grows still as it feels the cold, empty embrace of death''

''Bluestripe pulls himself over the ledge and watches where Number Eleven fell into the sea. Bubbles appear for several seconds and suddenly vanish. The threat of the Strangers was no more. Bluestripe finally accepts this and falls over onto his back from exhaustion, gazing up at the blue sky as the sun's rays wash over him''